


Dark Clouds Cover Bright Stars

by BibicornXx



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Child Neglect, Depression, Family Issues, Hope, Mental Health problems, Platonic Bonding, Running Away, Self-help, friendships, implied depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-11
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 22:01:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25203631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BibicornXx/pseuds/BibicornXx
Summary: Yeosang couldn’t see the stars, he’d been swamped in dark clouds and lost his hope. Then San came stumbling into his life and helped him clear the clouds away, not just for himself but for both of them.(This is my entry for the ateez writing competition, but i wanted to post it here too so it could be seen by more people. Please let me know if i need to change or add any more tags)
Kudos: 8





	Dark Clouds Cover Bright Stars

“Yeosang! Will you get off your phone for 10 minutes?” the woman leant over her son sprawled on the floor of his dark bedroom, hands on her hips, a habit she had picked up a lot over the past year. Her eyes dragged over the mess of crumpled clothes (whether clean or not was a mystery), plastic food packaging and other miscellaneous belongings littering the floor before looking back at her son laying so close to his bed he was half underneath it. Yeosang peeled his red and irritated eyes away from the screen in his hand to meet the woman’s gaze, her taking it as a sign to continue. “You’re always so antisocial these days, why don’t you come out and spend some time with me and your father tonight?” It was phrased like a question, but they both knew it was not a request. She gave another scan over the parts of her son she could see, pausing on his unwashed hair, before seeming to give up and turned to leave. On the way out the room she paused and said over her shoulder “You being so mopey drags the rest of us down you know? Think of us too.”

The door was left open as she left, something that a year or two ago would have made a swirl of red anger colour Yeosang’s insides. Now however, he just stared at it forlornly and wondered why he wasn’t feeling. He knew he was dragging all their moods down with his own as it sank deeper and deeper, but to help them he needed to help himself, and that was something he didn’t know how to do.

He could hear the banging pots and pans of his mother- or _the woman_ as he had started mentally calling her- as she started making dinner. His father was most likely sat watching TV as he rested from his day at work, his sister probably being her studious self and studying. He wished he could gather up the energy to get up and open his textbook, let alone read the contents. All he did all day anymore was scroll his phone, most of what he sees disappearing from his memory immediately. His days were wasting away before his eyes, and so was he to a degree, his lack of selfcare making him appear pale and sickly.

He had no concept of time anymore, so it seemed like seconds later when he snapped back to awareness that his mother had called that food was ready. He felt like his bones were made of lead as he dragged himself from under the bed. He knew if he didn’t make his way to the table, he’d face punishment. He wasn’t sure when he’d pushed the rest of his body into the comforting darkness, but leaving it now felt like he was swimming against a current. He managed to sit up and lean against the bed and catch some of the breath he had lost doing so. He knew he had to move quickly or else he’d risk losing more time and angering his family more than they were going to be anyway.

Getting to his feet seemed like the biggest task he’d ever have to do, and he refused to think about the fact he’d have to do it again tomorrow, only thinking about how he’d already done it the day before. He managed it, using his bed as support. He made it to the door on shaky steps, made it through the hallway, made it down the stairs, made it to his seat at the table. His eyes slipped closed at the relief of not standing, but all he really craved was the soothing hardness of his bedroom floor where he could slump and melt away from existing.

The mealtime itself slipped through his mind like a sand in an hourglass, and he looked down at his plate not remembering how he’d managed to clear it. He knew by now his family knew not to include him in conversation because he wasn’t going to reply. They took his bowl away from in front of him and he jerks back into awareness long enough for his father’s voice to pierce his memory: “He’s basically broken, what’s the point?”

He got to his feet in that moment without realising he had, and shuffled away, feeling three sets of eyes on his increasingly prominent spine. His father’s words spiralled around in his head like a tornado, taking over his entire mind until he crawled under the bed and rested his forehead on the cool wood, resisting the urge to bang his head against it in an effort to settle his thoughts. A single tear dripped to the floor. No others followed, the numb feeling he hated came to sooth him and for the first time it made him feel better, not worse.

****

San’s childhood had been great, wonderful, spectacular. He had his lovely little family of his parents, himself, and his sister, and everything was perfect in their little world. Of course, there were a few hiccups along the way, but nothing they couldn’t all get through together. Because they were a family. They did things together. Until they didn’t anymore.

Over time his parent’s arguments had started getting more serious, more vicious. His sister would hold him and stroke his hair (even if he’d said he was too old for that now, and he was secretly thankful she ignored him) as their parents screamed and cursed and attacked each other with words so sharp and brutal San still heard them vividly in his head years later when he unfocussed for too long, like they’d carved a place in his mind.

His parents then refused to live together in the same home. His father moved out and found accommodation in a small apartment, their mother staying in the family home. He only stayed so close so he could be close to the two children, but the older San and his sister both got they realised it was a kind of game between the parents, to try and win the kids favour. A sick game of picking favourites. San sunk into the dark cloud over his mind when he realised that, but he pushed forward and fought against it, even though it cost him all his energy to do so. If his parents were trying to make them happy the least he could do is smile and thank them, no matter how uncomfortable it felt and how much the words tasted wrong. Sometimes it was so difficult to put up the act that he gave in and spent those days pretending to be sick so he could curl up in bed and wonder why he existed in the first place and what had gone wrong. The only thing that pushed him through was his sister. Despite being the younger sibling, he felt it was his duty to protect her. She’d done so much for him she deserved someone looking out for her too. He knew that they both preferred staying with their mother because of her gentle love towards them, and that their dad would stop at nothing to have them with him, so he did the only thing he could.

San moved in with his father in his apartment. His parents had been surprised at his offer of a compromise, but hesitantly agreed. The memory of his sisters teary eyes as she held his shoulders and scanned his face like she was imprinting it into her memory made the dark cloud swell, and he spent a week drifting in his room. The fact that she felt she needed to do that spoke volumes of how she thought this situation was going to end up. That was the last time he saw her for months. That week of hiding away in his room was a mistake though, as he soon figured out. His father lashed out about how he cannot take care of both of them by himself and needed San to pull his weight. So San got great at faking smiles, forcing himself to eat and to breathe and to live. He didn’t know what else he could do.

A month or so after moving in with his father, his father seemed to remember he had no reason to stay around the area anymore, he had gotten what he had wanted (or at least an equal split with his ex-wife). San returned from school one day and his father was waiting for him. His father told him to start packing because they were moving out in two weeks’ time. He waited until his father was finished explaining what was going to happen before nodding, making a flimsy excuse of doing some studying, and heading to his room, closing the door gently after himself. He calmly dropped his bag on the floor beside his bed, but then dropped to his knees next to it and leant over to try muffle his heaving sobs into the mattress. Whoever said real men don’t cry was wrong and narrowminded, yet his father wholeheartedly agreed with that philosophy. He was moving away, and that meant the chances of seeing his sister any time soon got smaller and smaller. He wished they’d never parted, but he also knew it was for the best, that she would feel uncomfortable and scared here. He was facing so many problems, like having to make new friends, learning where everything was, but the most painful part was definitely the distance that would grow between him and his sister.

The two weeks flash by as he knew they would. By this point he’d already gone through the 7 stages of grief and accepted that he’s leaving a piece of himself with his sister that he’ll most likely never find again unless he finds her. He has a backpack full of his favourite things on his back, the rest of the less important stuff is in boxes in the back of the van his dad rented for the occasion. He takes one last look around the now empty apartment and leaves. He can see his fathers scowl through the van window and sees him tapping his fingers impatiently on the steering wheel. Sensing his father is eager to leave San hurries into the passenger seat and drops his backpack down near his feet. His father starts the spluttering engine and stares straight ahead as he says “It’s a two-hour drive and we’re not stopping because the company said the locks on this thing don’t work and I’m not risking anything being taken while we stop. Got it?”

“Yes, father.” San replies, his voice quiet and shy.

The van starts its journey.

The radio plays generic pop songs as they drive, but they don’t stick in his head, the beats bouncing around and giving him a headache. All his thoughts were consumed by how his father is to blame for tearing him away from his sister. Or maybe it’s his mothers’ fault? They both destroyed the family they created, and they didn’t seem like they were even suffering! It made San feel like he was slowly turning into rock, each day he felt like he sank into the ground a little more whereas his parents seemed like they were free birds. Why was he punished for something he didn’t have any part in? Maybe he did? What if-STOP!

His eyes clouded over for a second as he held back tears, then suddenly he came to a burning conclusion. If they were going to control his life and ruin it, then he would have to take control back and fix it. And it was like fate was on his side. As his father stopped the van in traffic, san opened the door, grabbed his bag, and ran.

****

Yeosang’s head rose from his darkness long enough only to let a single thought through: what if he proved he was still there? Still here inside the shell of his body? But soon he was swallowed back up again, and the thought was replaced with: What’s the point? For the first time he refused to let go of the first thought, not letting his memory wash it away through the sheer power of determination. He heard his family opening the back door going outside into the back garden, the house suddenly lacking the sound of voices he hadn’t even noticed in the first place. The silence made his thoughts seem deafening, but he wanted to do something. Something to prove he still has control. He got to his feet, wobbling unsteadily but managing to stay upright. He looked out his bedroom window and saw his family looking up at the sky with small smiles on their faces. He lost his motivation and his knees refused to hold him. He staggered over to the bed and dropped onto it like a stone dropping through water. He didn’t deserve to go out there and force them to remember that he existed. They didn’t deserve that. But maybe… maybe he could still go outside.

He had some difficulty finding some shoes, after not wearing any for a while they’d been buried under the mess he’d made of his room, but he found a pair underneath a crumpled shirt. Putting them on was tedious and tiring, but he finally felt _something_ other than the emptiness he was now used to. He couldn’t really tell what it was, it was muffled, but he knew it was there. And it was progress.

He descended the stairs slowly and quietly, not risking the others hearing even if he knew they would never hear from where they are in the garden. He got to the front door, opened it with shaky hands and stepped outside.

He had only taken a step and he was already overwhelmed. The outside, despite being night-time, was bright and exciting. He felt like he could breathe again, the cool night air making his chest hurt with sharp cold. He closed his eyes to try and calm his senses, but that only meant that when something made a noise from few yards in front of him, he heard it like it was happening right at his feet. The noise was loud for a calm night like this, and Yeosang opened his eyes to meet the eyes of a boy sat on the other side of the street. The boy looked startled at being seen, hiding his face partially behind his backpack. The hair that could be seen looked fluffy and messy, like the wind had combed it back for him. His clothes were also dirty, but not dirty enough to assume he lived on the streets.

“What are you doing?” Yeosang asked, his voice hesitant about breaking the silence of the night.

The boy flinched at the direct address and replied “I don’t know. I didn’t really think this far ahead?”

Yeosang pulled a confused face. “What do you mean? Why aren’t you at home? It’s…” He trailed off as he looked at the moon reflected in a puddle in the road “…late” he finished quietly.

The boy studied him a moment from across the street before moving closer. His movement looked painful as he limped slightly on his right leg. He kept looking at Yeosang like he could read him like a book. He stopped a comfortable distance away and simply said “You’re tired.”

Yeosang squinted at him more. “Of course I’m tired, its late.”

“No, you don’t understand” the strange boy said, taking a step closer “You look like how I feel. Like you’re really really… really… _tired_ …” His eyes had glazed as they watered and any tension he had held previously disappeared. He stood like he’d lost all the energy in him, only just managing to keep his balance and stay standing. He looked Yeosang in the eye without hesitation though, and said “So? You’re tired?”

“…Yeah,” Yeosang said after some hesitation, and finally tilted his head slightly to look up at the sky, only to see a cloud had moved in and blocked the stars his parents had been smiling up at before “I think I’m very tired.”

****

Ten minutes later they were sat beside each other on the doorstep, Yeosang looking at the damage to the boys ankle. San, as he had said his name was, explained how he had run away from his father earlier in the day with only his backpack to try and find his sister but had gotten lost. He wasn’t lying when he said he hadn’t thought far ahead, because when Yeosang asked what he was planning to do for food and shelter his cheeks had lit up in a soft blush and he’d looked away in embarrassment. Yeosang felt a twinge of humour at that and the fact he’d felt it at all brought tears to his eyes, but he wiped them before they could betray him and escape.

Yeosang hummed in thought and winced at the swelling of San’s ankle. “This looks sprained, you need some ice and some bandages or something,” Yeosang said unsurely “I’ll have to lookup what you need, I’ve never dealt with an injury like this before, but I can tell you now that you need to rest it.”

San looked up at him with worry “I can’t go anywhere, I have no money… and I’m scared.”

Yeosang looked at him and his eyes softened when he saw San glaring at his ankle like it had offended him. A crazy idea struck him then, and he could tell it was crazy because his heart skipped a beat for the first time in 2 years. He turned to San and his face cracked a small but heartfelt smile as he said, “You could hide in my room until you recover?”

“what?”

“You heard me.”

“You’re crazy!” San laughed

“I know” Yeosang said, quite amused at himself too, but he continued “I think it could work. My m-mother” he stumbled quite aggressively on the word and played it off by brushing invisible dirt off his clothes “she barely comes in my room, and if she does she just looks at me like I’m b-broken. She doesn’t even bother turning on the light anymore. I think she only comes in to check if I’m still alive really…” He trailed off, losing his train of thought as some of the darkness pushed and pulled his brain like a sea tide.

San took it all in stride though, and continued for him “So you’re saying if we’re careful about it you’d let me secretly stay in your house? Why?” his voice heavy with appreciation but also confusion. “You don’t even know me!”

Yeosang pulled himself out of his head to reply “Well I doubt you’re going to kill me in my sleep with-“ He peered into San’s open backpack “-a laptop, some comics, a plushie and few chargers… actually the chargers might be a risk” he said with a giggle, and San joined in with an incredulous expression.

Yeosang stood, still a little wobbly but a lot better than in his bedroom, and looked down at San. He offered his hand to the boy. “So? You ready to be my secret friend?”

San looked at the offered hand before looking up and meeting his eyes to ask “Why are you helping me though?”

Yeosang’s movements paused as he tried to find the best way to phrase his answer. In the end he just said, “Because nobody’s looked after us for a while, so we need to look after each other now.”

San took his hand.

****

They created a system of sorts in the next two weeks. San and Yeosang would lay parallel underneath the bed during the day, conversing in quiet whispers. On the rare occasion Yeosang’s mother came in, San breathed as quietly as possible and silently shuffled as far from the woman as possible. It didn’t make a difference though, because Yeosang laying half under the bed blocked the view of the other boy. She only came in four times, but those times were nerve-wracking for both the boys, scared that the game was up. At night was when they had the most fun. Yeosang showed San some of his favourite movies and videos, often having to shove something over the boys face so his laugh was muffled and wouldn’t wake up the other residents in the house. But both boys relished in the lightness that came with the laughter was such a shock to the system after being missing for so long.

Of course, they weren’t fixed, but they weren’t broken in the first place. San repeatedly told Yeosang that after he was told what Yeosang’s father said the day he’d welcomed San into his room. San smiled a watery smile at him and said “Just because you struggle more than others do doesn’t, mean it isn’t still a struggle for you, and you need to be kinder to yourself. Everyone finds things difficult, we’re just part of the unlucky ones who find the things that should come naturally harder than we should. But we have reasons to stay determined and keep going, don’t we? It could be as simple as we haven’t seen all the shapes the stars can make yet, we just need to keep looking forward, knowing we’ve already come far.”

Yeosang felt San’s words melt a little of the darkness in his head and he felt a spark of hope that he wouldn’t feel this way forever.

During the night when they were sure nobody would come into the room, San climbed up onto the bed and waited as Yeosang crept down to the kitchen and stole food that the family wouldn’t notice was gone. By the end of the two weeks San’s ankle was good as new and he told Yeosang he was ready to go find his sister.

This hit Yeosang harder than he thought it would. He had gotten so used to the other boy being there and being so understanding that the thought of him leaving felt like his lungs were being compressed. San looked at him like he knew exactly what he was feeling.

San was the one with the crazy idea this time. He simply said, “You can come with me if you want.” And left it there.

Yeosang spent all of the last day thinking it over, the pros and cons of such a big decision. He was silent most the day as he thought, but San understood and left him to think, packing his things into his backpack and checking it was all there before simply sleeping, so he could be awake and aware during the night while he was travelling.

At midnight Yeosang sat up from the floor where he’d been laid for the past two hours and fetched a notebook and a pen. He spent the next thirty minutes writing, taking long pauses occasionally, tapping the pen against his lips as he thought. When he deemed himself finished, he tore the page out the notebook and laid it down on his floor. Then, for the first time in many months, he then made his bed, smoothing out the sheets as best he could. The note was then placed on his pillow. San watched all this in silence and continued to do so as Yeosang grabbed a backpack from the hook hanging behind his door and began to pack it with belongings.

San passed him a few useful things silently, and Yeosang took them with a nod of thanks.

“We’ll leave at two, that way everyone will definitely be asleep, and it gives us more time to travel before they wake up in case they decide to come find you.” san said softly so as to not disturb the silent night air around them. Yeosang nodded and sat down, looking across at the digital clock that said the time was one fifteen.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” San asked him “I’d be okay going by myself”

“I know,” Yeosang replied “but I don’t think I would be.”

They left the conversation there.

****

The door snapped closed behind Yeosang. The two stood out in the street and wrapped their arms around themselves as a chill breeze blew at them. Yeosang turned and looked at his home. He didn’t know when he’d be seeing it again, so he took a moment to imprint it into his memories.

“Are you coming?” San quietly called to him, having already taken a few steps ahead but paused when he saw his companion was not following.

“Yeah,” Yeosang said as he scanned over the building again. “Just taking one last look”. He stepped away and took San’s hand, for the pure fact he needed to know he wasn’t alone in that moment, that the dark cloud in his mind could try swallow him again, but that he had someone willing to help him fight it back.

As they started walking, they both glanced up at the sky to see an abundance of stars twinkling and shining away. Both boys felt the same thing in that moment, something they had not felt in a long time, but it put power in their steps and determination in their hearts. They felt hope.

****

_I’m sorry for “dragging you all down” as I’ve been constantly told, so I’ve decided to do something about it. I am leaving with my new friend to search for his sister. He understands me in more ways than any of you ever have, not just because he suffers like me, but because he took the time and effort to care for me._

_I don’t know when I will be back, if ever. I hope you realise you all hurt me by isolating me, and I hope you learnt from your mistakes so you never make anyone else feel so sad and alone ever again._

_Despite all this, I still love you all, and I hope to see you again soon,_

_Your son and brother,_

_Yeosang_


End file.
